Just enough O.T.O. - A little more Thelema

So I posted a "Gripe and Moan" about how I was sinking too much energy into Horus Oasis, and how that was getting in the way of my Will.

The IAO131 asked a pointed question.

Dang. Don't we just hate it when people ask us to THINK.

Recharging the Batteries

Tomorrow is Gnostic Mass.

I am going to be deacon, and I am providing the Cakes of Light. So I had a baking session earlier. I am quite pleased with the results. I take my 'recipe' from "She Who Opens", this being the same woman as "She who bakes without written recipes". I will confess to one batch at the start of the year that was a bit crunchy. But excepting that single mistake, they have been flawless.

The Priest and Priestess for mass have never worked together before. In my mind, they live on opposite sides of many spectrums (age, personality, blah, blah). I am not alone in this perception. But everyone I have talked to is looking forward to this mass and is predicting some wonderful results. And I get to stand in the middle of it all and play conductor.

Now - this post seems the polar opposite of my last post. But it sheds light. The Gnostic Mass is what drew me into the O.T.O. When the fate of Horus Oasis was hanging in the balance (or so we thought), my reason for stepping up to help save it was that I wanted Gnostic Mass in my life.

Last month I was priest for mass. When we were done, the priestess told me the following: "I was going to call and cancel. Life has just been SO crazy and I just didn't have the time or energy. But I didn't cancel, and I am glad. I have NEVER regretted being a part of Mass." I feel the same way. Gnostic Mass recharges my batteries. It keeps me going for another month. I can bitch and moan about other aspects of playing with the O.T.O., but I swear an oath at this moment: I will never bitch and/or moan about Gnostic Mass.

PS - Mass of the Phoenix tonight. Ouch (I am such a wimp). This time I did it REALLY SLOW and stopped at each line and action to really think about it. Most enlightening.

Too much O.T.O. - Not enough Thelema

On October 10, Horus Oasis held a first degree initiation. The current initiation team had never done a first degree before, so there was much to learn and memorize, much to set up and test, much time to spend getting the whole thing ready. It pretty much ate my life for the three weeks leading up. Then there was clean-up to do in the few days following. At the end of the ordeal, I was ready for a break.

Wrong.

Cleanup was on the 13th. O.T.O. coffee on the 16th. Discussion group on the 20th. Gnostic Mass on the 24th. Etc, etc, etc. And so the schedule goes through the month of November.

During the lead-up to the first degree, I deferred personal projects and obligations to other people. They came home to roost this last week. So, if anything, I am busier and more stressed (and further behind) now than I was before.

I am not happy. This is not what I thought I was signing on for. To be blunt, the O.T.O. is currently an obstacle to my pursuit of my own Will. I have joked with a few people, "This Thelema thing sounds interesting. If I wasn't so busy with the O.T.O. I would check into it."

I am not happy.

First Degree

Last night we wrapped up a bit of a project in Horus Oasis. But let me start closer to the beginning.

On October 10, Horus Oasis held a first degree initiation. This was a larger event than normal because it was a 'first time event' for all of the officers involved and for many (but not all) of the people involved in setting up and taking down the temple.

For those of us doing it for the first time, there was much work involved. We got to memorize scripts, work out choreography, and wrangle equipment. Serious work started in early August. Even up to the morning of the event we were still refining some of the details. But, now that we have done it once, future first degrees will go much smoother. Even as we bring in new officers and helpers, there will still be the experience of the cadre to draw from.

Last night we (me, Warren, Beverly, Holly) took down the last of the first degree temple, then restored the gnostic temple. For me, this closed the event. There is now room to breath.

We are looking forward to Minervals in November and February, then a Third Degree in April. We have done Minervals before, and the ritual requires less work. I am informed by the initiators that I will not be allowed to officer in the Third Degree. (We'll see how that works out.)

Playing Hookie

Yesterday, the alarm went off at 5:00 AM - just as it always does. And, just like I always do, I got out of bed and silenced it. Then, with a headache, cotton mouth, and churning stomach, I set the timer for another 20 minutes and fell back in bed.

After 20 minutes, my head still hurt, my tummy still turned, and my mouth was still dry. I fell back into bed and held an internal debate over whether to call in sick.

Two hours later......

The Fortune 500 Company sent out message last week reminding its multitude of minions not to come into work if displaying symptoms of the flu. I rationalized that this applied as well to Swine Flu as to Brown Bottle Flu. I called in sick. I then showered and dressed and asked myself a question: "What do I need to get done today?"

Three things came to mind. The first was to clean up a wax spill in the Temple of Wombat. (What is it with pagans and candles?) So I set to this task, then decided the entire temple needed to be cleaned out and re-assembled. I hauled out boxes and folders and totes and stacks. I cleaned and dusted and sorted and filed and cursed and banished and repaired and eliminated. I then put the Temple of Wombat back together. Finally, when the floor cover was back in place, I performed the lesser hexagram ritual to re-establish the working space.

So far so good.

The other two task I planned for the day went undone. Cleaning the temple took all day. But when it was all done, I felt good. I was motivated again.

Birth...

Take the time and effort to pull down "Magick Without Tears" from the internet. In it, the 'Man of Earth' degrees of the O.T.O. are described.

Yesterday, Horus Oasis pulled off a birth - a first degree initiation. I played a role as an officer. I also did much in the way of setup and take-down.

Life is good. At the same time {sarcasm alert}, this thing called "Thelema" sounds really interesting. Someday, when all of this O.T.O. shit is no longer monopolizing my time, I would like to check it out.

*Sigh*

Trespassing

I spent the morning cutting down trees on the OTHER SIDE of the property line. Yea me!

It was actually at Kat's place. The other property is a rental, so the owner doesn't really care. The trees are chinese elm growing in the strip between the carport and the fence line. With a new fence going up, the REALLY BIG WEEDS need to go.

I guess I am sort of weird when it come to tools. Most real men would fire up the Stihl chain saw with the smoke belching two stroke engine. Not me. I drag an extension cord out and plug in the 20 year old Sears electric chain saw.

Yes. Electric. An electric chain saw.

http://www.sears.com/shc/s/p_10153_12605_07134011000P?keyword=electric+chainsaw

You have NO IDEA how many times this thing has paid for itself over the years. No gas. No oil. No goddamn pull-start. Just plug the sucker in and start chasing the neighborhood cats.

Step back, take stock, and get ALL SORTS of pissed off

I have been fighting like hell for forward progress in my life. But the harder and longer I have fought, the stiffer the resistance has been. There came a point in the last few days when I stopped fighting - for just a little bit - and took stock of things. Then I decided to get just one damned bloody thing out of the way before taking up the fight again.

Get the wireless working. Or replace it with a cable.

So I started on the project, hoping to use the old wireless, in its final throes of death, to get the job done. I had to reset the piece of shite at least ten times. Then I threatened it. Then I slammed it against the wall. (That last one got its attention.).

And now....finally....I have wireless the works. I have internet access the way a true man us supposed to have internet access.

Next weekend I am going to take the old Linksys bridge to a special place in the back yard and I am going to pound it into a thousand pieces with a sledge hammer.

Spam and Potato sandwich

Explanation in advance to prepare you for an awful detail to come.... Kat and I used to fry up Spam and eat it with a bit of honey. The combination of nitrates and sugars could not be resisted.

Take one small potato. Peel. Slice lengthwise into thin slabs. Place in frying pan, lube with a bit of olive oil, low heat.

Cut a few slabs of spam to match the potato slices. When the potato is about half done, add the spam.

On one slice of bread, apply a thin layer of mayo.

On the other slice, something sweet. I was out of honey. But I had grape jelly. YOU WERE WARNED.

When spam and potato are done, build a sandwich and eat on the front porch. In plain sight. In front of the neighbors. (You are, after all, a middle aged bachelor and you have no shame.)

Note to self: Toast the bread next time. The darned thing was a bit limp and hard to handle.

Where ARE those damned saucers?????

Another X-Day comes and the saucers don’t show up again. How long must we wait? I'm going to have a word with Rev. Stang about this...

Purification. The Tao offers no resistance. The way is easy to travel. (…or something like that. It was sitting under the tomb at Gnostic mass last weekend, when I was priest.)

Life has just become too hard. In many areas, between where I am and where I want to be, I can see no path. Or, if I see a path, it seems to be filled with obstacles or restrictions. But there is something in my head that tells me this reality that lives only in my head. The paths are all there, and they are all broad and easy. I just refuse to see them. I suppose this is made worse by related facts: I want too much; I can’t focus on one thing to completion; I mourn over things not done; I dither and wallow in indecision; I have begun to overuse semi-colons in my writing.

In June I set goals for working out and for spiritual practice. About 1/3 of the way through the month, it all fall apart. Worse, I lost ground. Too much alcohol and self pity. Approaching Gnostic Mass last weekend, I realized I was fighting it too hard. I was gritting my teeth and tensing up and being the worst sort of mammal in my reactions. I remembered, for the hundredth time, that it just doesn’t have to be so hard.

Aside – I am listening to Speaking of Faith. It is a rebroadcast of the role of play in life. I remember my last conversation with friend in which I was accused, not for the first time, of not knowing how to have fun. It fits the theme of loosening the hell up.

I will choose two things that must happen, two that should happen, and two that would be nice to happen. Then I will, when I find myself acting or thinking counter to these things, speak to myself a word, phrase or sentence that will set my course back in line with my will.

1. Must – No alcohol.
2. Should – No overeating.
3. Nice – Clean my surroundings.
4. Should – Learn the O.T.O. first degree.
5. Nice – Establish daily practice.
6. Must – Stop dithering.

It was interesting making that list. I wrote the six items first, then I went back and assigned the priorities. Setting priorities was much more challenging than creating the list. There is a tension between what my emotions tell me to do and what my brain tells me to do. In essence, if the two ‘Must’ items are done, a great door is opened to the other items. I will make up the words or phrases to set my focus as I go along. One word about the alcohol: It is there mainly because when I drink just one beer - even a Utah, mass market, 3.2 percent beer - my focus goes all to hell, and I spend the rest of the day wandering around accomplishing nothing.

“It is tough when you conclude that you just don’t have the resources to take care of something, especially something you care about, and you have to just walk away from it.” I said something like that to a friend as she was telling me about Jaimie, the dog that went to California with the 'real owner'. She knew the dog would be neglected, but needed to let her go anyway. After the conversation ended, I realized it also applies to me and some of the things and people I have been putting energy into. It was most painful when thinking of Holly and Beverly. All of the progress we made in the last few years cleaning the house has been buried under new piles of junk and kruft.

Gnostic Mass last weekend. It was good mass with good energy.

Return to the garden

I had a sort of epiphany a few weeks ago. It was the perfect time to start a garden. I was tempted to start one of my own, but I knew it would be folly. I looked forward to the summer and could see I would have no time to care for a garden. I had a sense of loss.

I looked at all the things getting in the way of having a garden and realized most of them are not of my choosing, and are not reflections of my will. They are things imposed on me, either by other people or (mostly) by my own foolishness. I resolved to not let this happen again. I will have a garden next summer. A large and luscious garden. I will spend the next several months resolving the issues that prevented a garden this year, and building the discipline to reject new impositions that will thwart my will to have a garden.

So mote it be.

Nothing like a good horse

Nearly 20 years ago, Kat and I went to the local Schwinn shop and purchased bicycles. Since then, she has barely ridden hers while I have put countless miles on mine. I got a Woodlands, in medium blue. Last summer the bike was stolen from the porch. Since then I have been doing two things. I have been looking for a bike to replace it, either new or used, and I have been looking for my bike (on the chance that it is still in the neighborhood). My search for a new bike has been frustrating, because I seem to have two choices. Something that is quality, but with suspension and whistles and bells, none of which I want, or a basic frame that also happens to be cheap shit. Nothing I look at is what the old bike was – a solid non-suspended bike with good running gear and a reasonable price.

About two weeks ago, I spotted “my” bike a few blocks away. I was sort of planning to sneak over and see if it was really my bike and if I could get the serial number from it. But yesterday I saw a yard sale at the bike’s residence, and the bike offered for sale. I stopped and checked it out. It wasn’t really my bike. But it was the same make, model, color, and running gear. I gave it a test ride to see if it responded as my old bike did. It was like coming home. They wanted 30 bucks for it, and I paid up. The woman sort of sniffed about being sad to see her old friend of a bike go. But it will be going to a good home. I plan to keep it for years to come. I also plan, starting today, to keep it locked up.

Work Sucks

It seems as if management at work has embarked on a program of protracted and constant demoralization. Three rounds of layoffs are at the core of it. For me, moving between jobs is a part of this, along with having work thrown at me with no training or instruction on how the hell to do it. In some cases, being free to make up your own job is a blessing. This is not one of those cases. Then – obviously disappointed that they weren’t important enough to be laid off - a small number of people quit. There are no signs they will be replaced.

On top of all this, a further blow is being administered. By the end of June – so the rumors say – development will have moved back to the main building. Our current arrangement is pretty sweet. We are in space that offers plenty of elbow room and some amenities. Being across the street from the mother ship, we are close enough to communicate with the rest of the company when we need to, but far enough away to be buffered from constant interruption. (When development was previously in the main building, interruptions became bad enough that they finally had to lock the door during business hours and appoint one person as a gatekeeper to handle communications with sales, support and training.) I am already conjuring up visions of the extreme measures we may have to make to buffer ourselves.

Another factor is just the physical space. We will be losing the elbow room, our own lunch room, the conference rooms, etc. We will be pressed together cheek and jowl. And – worse still – there is a rumor that my team, the NXT developers and QA, will actually be sharing space with four trainers. I am not looking forward to this at all.

Visitors, Coffee and getting back on track

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Smokin'

When my father was a young man, he and a brother stole a pack of cigarettes. They took them into the yard, hid behind a bush, and lit up. Their mother caught them. She asked, "You want to smoke?" The question hung in the air for a second, then she said, "Well then, you'll smoke." She then supervised as they finished off the entire pack.

Needless to say, these two young men never became smokers.

(They later asked their mother how she had found them out. Her answer: "There was only one bush in the yard with a cloud of smoke over it....")

When I was about twelve years old, I found a pack of Marlboro light 100's. I kept it for a few days, contemplating my options. Finally, I took them to my father. I told him I wanted to try them and see what it was like. (Realize - this all happened in a faithful Mormon family.) He found me a pack of matches and directed me to the back yard.

A few minutes later, green faced and convinced of the evil of cigarettes, my father told me his story. He knew enough to tell me to "Go For It" knowing what the result would be.

Not a smoker. Never will be.

I take it back

My bitch and moan from yesterday? I get to take back much of it.

Even as I posted, I realized I was being harsh. The person who called me wasn't saying, "This pisses me off and I want......". Instead, he was saying, "I think I need to talk to this other person, but I need help doing it in a way that doesn't cause offense or division." This is a very adult attitude, and I was wrong to complain about it.

I got a followup e-mail from this person. It showed them to be even more of a responsible adult that the picture I portray above. I need to spend an evening with with this crusty grouch, getting drunk and engaging in mutual bitching and moaning and whining. It will do me good.

Babysitting

I am minding my business last night (still savoring certain recent memories) when I get a phone call from a member of Horus Oasis.

"I'm upset with the actions of this other Horus Oasis member..."

Blah, blah, blah.

OK - The concerns are valid. The caller didn't want me to fix things, but was wanting insight before approaching the other person. They wanted to resolve the issue without any toe-stomping. This is all good. But.....

...for crying out loud, people. I am a Body Master of an occult organization that is supposed to be enabling us to get in touch with our higher - and hence BETTER - selves! I am not a babysitter, in charge of a bunch of middle aged preschoolers.

A lesson on focus

I made it back to the gym today. Yea me! This is the second time since I got home from Texas and came down with that cold last month.

I can tell I am out of shape. My first trip to the gym, after 20 minutes I had to switch from running to walking. On this trip, I was ready to make the switch at 30 minutes. (My workout runs 40 minutes.)

But then something happened.

A pair of young ladies entered the section of the gym in front of my workout station. As one of them lay down on the abs machine, her shorts fell to the side and I saw the promised land shielded in white cotton. Yea, verily, it was more panty that I have seen in months. It was just the portion of the panty I would view if given the choice. Yum. It was beautiful.

For the next ten minutes of my workout, as the two girls continued to tempt me with occasional glimpses of white, my attention was no longer on my toiling legs or burning lungs. There was no call to walk instead of run. No. My attention was elsewhere.

Cleaning house

The frenzy continues.

The Gnostic Mass equipment was all packed into the car and will find a new home tomorrow. Michael's possessions have been sorted and boxed and shoved into a corner. The newsletter for Horus Oasis has been reviewed.

With all of that, I still feel as if the day was only a partial success. No workout. Cat boxes not emptied. Dishes still dirty.

My hope is that the Mass Equipment is out of my airspace forever. With each load that walked out to the car, I felt less weight on me and more freedom in the house. My fear is that it will all manage to come back. We will see.

Michael will be home for Christmas, so he can sort through the boxes then. I think most of his stuff is here to stay. Too good to throw away, not good enough to drag into enlisted housing.

The renters are moving out of Kat's basement this week. We are supposed to make repairs this weekend. It isn't going to happen. Too many other things to do in Salt Lake and Tooele. So it look like my evenings next week are all going to be spent with cleaning and repairs at the rental. This may also scuttle my plans to resume my workout schedule.

There is too much life in my life and not enough living.

New sleeping arrangements

The old bed just wasn't doing it for me anymore. It was a homemade frame - for one of the kids, and meant to be first installment on a bunk bed - and held the mattress between 4 and 5 feet off the ground. I guess it was nice being able to put shelves and a small desk underneath. But 'something' changed and I spent the last three weeks avoiding it and crashing on the king size bed in the guest room.

So yesterday I took it all apart. This evening I performed surgery, put it back together, and I now have a bed that sits only about six inches higher than standard. It is something I can fall into instead of having to climb into.

I was never really utilizing the space under the old bed anyway.

I think cleaning out the temple space a few weeks back unplugged something in my psyche. The bed is just the latest in a small flurry of activity. I just wish I had more time to put into me, and less committed to not-me.